Welcome to Deca's
by walutahanga
Summary: Welcome to Deca’s, the hot spot for robots of the power ranger universe to hang out. The legal drinking age is two years old, and the beverage of choice is motor oil. Please leave your humans at the door, and see Alpha to book a session in the Simudeck.


"

**Title**: Welcome to Deca's

**Author**: walutahanga

**Disclaimer**: Power Rangers is not mine.

**Summary**: Welcome to Deca's, the hot spot for robots of the power ranger universe to hang out. The legal drinking age is two years old, and the beverage of choice is motor oil. Please leave your humans at the door, and see Alpha to book a session in the Simudeck. (For everyone who thought that Mack was kind of hard on his robot brethren.)

--

"Trust us, Mack, this will be fun!"

Mack didn't look reassured. As Dax's idea of fun involved hanging suspended from a harness whilst performing dangerous stunts for low pay, Mack had good reason to not be reassured.

"I don't know, guys," he said, standing in the hatchway of the SHARC and looking outside reluctantly. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"_I_ think it's a good idea," Rose said firmly. "And I'm never wrong. Am I guys?"

Will's cough sounded suspiciously like '_pirates'_. Rose shot him a dark look.

"_As_ I was saying," she said. "Mack, you romantisize humanity too much. It's time for you to get in touch with your robot heritage. This is the perfect way."

"By taking me to a _bar_?"

The bar looked suspiciously like a ship that had crashed on an alien moon and had a few sheets of metal slapped haphazardly over the worst dents. A sign above the doors spelt "_Deca's_" in flashing red and blue lights.

"It's not just any bar," Rose said, sounding offended. "I researched this. It was established back in 1999 when the galaxy rangers crashed the astro rangers' Megaship into the moon of Miranoi."

"So how'd it become a nightclub?"

"I was just getting to that. What with the ensuing lawsuits, it got tied up in the courts, and no one ever figured out who had scavenging rights. The ship's computer didn't have anything better to do so she converted the entire ship into a nightclub. It's been the hot spot for robots to hang out ever since."

"It's the _only_ place for robots to hang out," Will muttered. Rose kicked him in the ankle.

"Now Mack," she said. "The wormhole closes at twenty-one hundred hours sharp," she said. "The SHARC will be by to pick you up before then. Now go have fun and get in touch with your legacy."

"You know, technically, I get in touch with my legacy every time I log onto the internet…"

"Go!" Rose pushed him out the door. "You have your communicator if you need us."

"Don't accept any drinks from strange bots!" Ronny shouted after him.

"And don't leave your drink standing alone!" Will said. "Just buy a new one!"

"You have protection, right?" Dax called. Everyone looked at him strangely. "You know. _Virus_ protection. In case he pickes up any viruses again."

Will thwapped Dax up the back of the head.

"What?"

The door slid closed and the SHARC took off. In a flash of departing tailights it vanished into the wormhole. Mack brushed dirt off his knees and looked around. Seeing nothing else to do for the next four hours, he walked over to the bar door and knocked. A red cybernetic eye extended from the side of the door, blinking at him.

"Please state your age and model," a feminine voice droned in a voice that was oddly devoid of expression.

"Uh… I'm a Machartford 01," Mack said.

"Age?"

"Two years."

Robots must have the lowest legal drinking age ever, because the doors slid open and music washed out.

"Proceed," the voice said. "Welcome to Deca's. Enjoy your night, Machartford 01."

"Uh, thanks. I think."

He walked inside. As the doors slid shut behind him, he took a good look around. Someone had hollowed out the inside of the ship, leaving a huge dance floor in the centre. Robots of varying types sat at surrounding tables, talking or drinking black stuff that looked suspiciously like motor oil. There was a barkeep set up at the side, and Mack sighed in relief as he spotted someone he recognised.

"Hi, Alpha," he said, walking over and sitting down on a stool. The squat little robot was polishing a glass, but he nearly dropped it when he recognised Mack.

"Mack!" He said in a new, high voice. It made him sound kind of girly, but the old voice had been so grating, Mack actually preferrred this new one. "Ay, ay, ay! What are you doing in a robot bar?"

"It's kind of a long story. Basically, I'm a robot." He blinked. "Hey, that didn't take long after all."

"That's great!" Alpha burbled with enthusiasm only an Alpha could have managed. "Motor oil?"

"Sure, why not –wait, what?"

"Motor oil." Alpha said, bringing out a glass and hose from underneath the bar. "Robots drink motor oil. Much nicer than that nasty food and water that biotics imbibe."

"Yeah…" Mack watched the thick black oil spurting into the glass. It wasn't like he was human, he reminded himself. Him drinking motor oil was probably more natural than him eating cupcakes. And Rose _had_ said he should get in touch with his heritage. He took a cautious sip, and nearly choked. "Er. Yummy." He tried to spit it back into the glass without being obvious about it. "So, Alpha, what happened to you?"

"Well, apparently Adam only offered me a place to stay because he couldn't figure out how to program his VCR. The cheapskate didn't want to invest in a DVD player. So when Deca contacted me about an opening in her business…"

"No, I mean what happened to your voice? You sound like a gi– Ow!"

Mack jumped, rubbing his arm where the blue spark of energy had zapped him. Above the bar, a red cybernetic eye swivelled to lock onto him. Though Deca couldn't manage to narrow her eye, something about the way she looked at Mack reminded him of Spencer. "I mean you sound like a, uh….great guy?"

"Oh, that. Deca restored my old voice program." Alpha indicated the red cybernetic eye that was now glaring at Mack menacingly. "She said it would be more appealing to customers. I don't know why."

"Yo, Alpha-babe!" Some punk in a green beanie leaned over the counter. "Why don't you shake that cute little microprocessor over this way and get me another motor oil."

"You've had seven already, CyberCam!" Alpha turned back to Mack. "Ay, ay, ay. I don't know why all these male-bots keep hitting on me. I keep telling them that my gender-designation is male, but no one seems to believe me. Isn't that weird?"

"Yeah…weird," Mack said, acutely aware of the red cybernetic eye watching him.

"Oh, Ay ay ay!" Alpha said suddenly.

"What? What is it?"

"Alpha Five and Alpha Seven are walking over this way. The bastards are always talking about their swanky jobs on Eltar and the Megaship II. Oh ay, ay, ay!"

If Mack had been a little faster on the uptake, he could have beat a graceful, if hasty, retreat. But because he didn't have that much experience with Alphas, he remained sitting where he was, watching the two squat robots shuffle up. He had his first inkling of foreboding when the slightly older, more rusty Alpha spoke.

"Ay, ay, ay, ay!" It said, in a buzzing voice. "Fancy seeing _you_ here, Alpha Six! What a chance in one hundred billion!"

"Ay, ay, ay, ay!" Said girly-voice Alpha. "Chance has nothing to do with it, Alpha Five. Your chances of encountering me here were very high, as you well know, because I work here, and we have encountered one another on previous nights. Ay, ay, ay, ay!"

"Ay, ay, ay," said the third Alpha in a buzzing voice almost identical to the older model. "There's no need to get bitchy, Alpha Six. Just because I got your old job. Ay ay ay!"

"Ay ay ay! You only got my job, Alpha Seven, because you locked me in a crate and left me to rot in an earth warehouse. Ay, ay, ay, ay!"

"If you can't take the heat, get out of the human food preperation area." The robot left the briefest of pauses, then added: "Ay, ay, ay."

Mack picked up his glass of motor oil. He didn't know if robots could get drunk, but he intended to find out.

--

"So, Mack. How was your night out?"

Rose beamed at Mack as he walked into the mansion door. All the rangers put down their various forms of entertainment to hear Mack's answer.

"I'm not talking to you," Mack said in a too-calm voice. "_Any_ of you."

He went upstairs, legs a little unsteady. When the Alphas started arguing, he'd decided to try the motor oil for real. After Alpha Seven had hit on him, he'd started downing it like water.

"But Mack!" Rose said, following him up the stairs. She was disappointed that his night hadn't gone quite as she'd hoped. "What happened?"

Mack turned on his heel without warning, and brandished a dramatic finger at her startled face.

"I had to sit through a bitch session between three Alphas," he said. "Do you know how many '_ay's_ that is? That's six-hundred and twenty nine! I know this because I'm a robot and apparently have perfect recall. I can recall every single second of that conversation and I can tell you right now, listening to Dax on a sugar-high is a _pleasure_ in comparision."

"Hey!" Dax said, uncertain as to whether he'd been insulted or not.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Mack said, throwing his arms wide to the room in general. He almost fell over, coordination not quite what it could have been. "I no longer fear death, because I have seen hell, and hell is three Alphas who've drunk too much motor oil and are sharing explicit details of their sex lives."

Rose looked horrified.

"I'm so sorry, Mack…" She started.

"Oh, and in case you're interested, Alpha Six is a girl now," Mack said. "He says he's a guy, but I'm pretty sure he's a girl. Although I think CyberCam doesn't really care either way," he added thoughtfully.

All the rangers shared a look and came the mutual, unspoken agreement that they didn't want to know.

"Alright," Will said, putting his book down and standing up. "Mack, why don't we get you into bed?"

He took Mack's arm and began steering him upstairs.

"Alpha Six is Deca's bitch," Mack told him.

"That's nice."

"Seriously. She made him get a sex change…"

As the pair disappeared upstairs, the other rangers looked at each other. Ronny huffed.

"Who's bright idea was this again?"

--


End file.
